


I Can Move You Like An Earthquake

by whensheflies



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Blowjobs, Canon Compliant, Established Relationship, Fluff, Light Angst, M/M, Makeup Sex, Mentions of Anxiety, Oral Sex, SO MUCH FLUFF, Smut, babygate, babymama isn't mentioned by name, ish? inspired by canon, she's only mentioned twice maybe, so don't let that deter you, there's also a little bit of side Ziam
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-23
Updated: 2015-10-23
Packaged: 2018-04-27 18:24:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 20,070
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5059303
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/whensheflies/pseuds/whensheflies
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><i>Go on, Hazza,</i> he thinks angrily, <i>give me your worst. Tell me what a fuck up I am. Tell me you fucking hate me.</i></p><p>He watches Harry's lips part and curses himself for doing so. Louis is ready for a fight if only Harry would give it to him.</p><p>When Harry speaks, his voice comes out low. "Want to go for a drive?" he asks Louis.</p><p>Taken aback, Louis reacts unthinking. His mouth is dry and he hears his response only after he says it.</p><p>"Sure."</p><p> </p><p>Or, Louis made a baby and Harry's not speaking to him. They find their way back to each other with the help of a secret beach house rendezvous.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I Can Move You Like An Earthquake

**Author's Note:**

> This is a work of _fiction_ and should be treated as such. Fiction. All of it. Made up.
> 
> This fic was born while I was on vacation this past July. While there, we had an unseasonable freak thunderstorm. It was so moody and beautiful. Consequently, I was stuck inside for a day and decided to write some fic. Harry's secret beach house is very much inspired by the house I stayed in. 
> 
> Please suspend your disbelief for a couple things in this fic: 1. OTRA having a LA date (oh, how I wish!), and 2. Harry & Louis being able to sneak off anywhere together without getting papped.
> 
> Anyway, I had so much fun writing this summertime vibey story even if it took my three and half months to finish it.
> 
>    
> Enjoy! xoxo

*

"That's it for me, boys. I'm off. See you in a couple weeks." Liam says, slapping Niall's back in a hug. They're getting a much needed break, just a few weeks off between shows before the tour kicks back into high gear. After this brief interlude, they won't have time off again until the holidays.

Niall turns his head at the last moment, smacking a wet kiss on Liam's cheek.

"Aagh. Why?" Liam protests, but grins despite himself. He ruffles Niall's hair with his free hand.

"Say hello to Zayn for me." Niall says to Liam before disappearing out the dressing room door.

Louis watches them from the couch, only smiling when Liam catches his eye. He feels it falter on his lips and hides it by taking a drag on his cigarette. "Off to see the lover boy, then?" Louis says, exhaling smoke from his nose. He smothers the cigarette on the surface of the end table.

Liam ducks his head with a sheepish smile and adjusts the strap of his backpack on his shoulder. He's thrilled, Louis can tell, at the prospect of going home to see Zayn. All the same, Louis appreciates Liam's ability to keep his excitement in check. The ever respectful to other's feelings Liam Payne at your service.

"What about you, Tommo? Any plans for the break?" Liam asks.

Louis wants nothing more than to hit the nearest club as soon as possible to drink enough to forget his own name. But in truth, he is exhausted. He'd probably just drop off the radar for a while in hopes of ignoring the impending shit storm of responsibility for just a bit longer. He doesn't want to advertise his misery to Liam, of all people, so he just nods. He hopes it looks nonchalant. 

"I'll come up with something. Stay out of trouble, mate." he says.

"Back at you. Where's Harry?" Liam asks.

Louis shrugs a shoulder. "Fuck if I know. Saving a dolphin probably." He means for it to sound like a joke, but it comes out bitter and laced with anger.

Liam frowns, worry etched in the faint lines on his forehead. "You need to sort things out with him. I can't stand the silence between you."

"There's nothing to sort out. " Louis says under his breath. The lie sounds pathetic even to Louis, so he is not surprised when Liam scoffs and keeps at him.

"I mean it. I don't want to suffer through another show like tonight's. We were off. If I can see it, then the fans can surely see it." Liam says.

"The fans don't see shit. They sounded plenty happy with tonight's performance, so I'd appreciate it if you'd save the lecture for someone who actually wants to hear it." Louis snaps.

His fingers itch for another cigarette or a drink. Anything to get his mind off of Liam's words and how they gnaw at his insides.

"You two need to talk. Enough at least to be able to fake it on stage." Liam says pointedly.

"Talking requires a dialogue. Between two people. Last I checked, he had nothing to say to me." Louis says. He can't even say his name out loud.

"Open your eyes, Tomlinson." Liam says angrily.

Louis bugs his eyes out and crosses them, stretching his lips out in a toothless smile. But Liam refuses to take the bait, unwilling to let Louis lighten the mood. Instead, Liam turns his back, hand on the doorknob.

He looks over his shoulder. "Fix it, Louis." he says.

Louis rolls his eyes and looks away. "Yes, _daddy_."

The moment the term of endearment slips from his mouth, his stomach drops. The word hangs in the air between them and Louis wishes he could take it back. His eyes meet Liam's from across the room. The disappointment on Liam's face is blatant and unmoving.

"Take care of yourself." Liam says and walks out, leaving Louis alone.

But Louis hears Liam's words for what they really are. They reverberate inside of his skull until he wants to scream.

Take care of yourself.

Take care of it.

Take care of _him_.

"Shit," he says to the empty room. He needs to drown his sorrows and if he doesn't do it soon, he might truly lose his mind. When did things get so screwed up? He knows the answer to the question, but denial is such a better place to be. Too bad denial is miserably lonely.

The jingle of car keys pulls Louis from his thoughts. His eyes meet Harry's green ones like moths to flame. Louis studies him for a moment, allows himself this one consolation. Harry's hair, damp with sweat, is pulled up into a bun at the top of his head. His brow furrows as he stares at Louis, unflinching. 

_There used to be a time when I could make that frown disappear so easily_ , Louis thinks.

Harry's shirt is clean, but old and worn out. Louis can see the faint black outline of the tattoos on his chest. He tears his eyes away, ceasing the self inflicted torture, but like magnets, Harry's eyes drag him back in.

So, Louis thinks, this is how we're going to leave it.

He sees Harry's chest rise and fall, knows the other man well enough to know when he's deliberating.

 _Go on, Hazza,_ he thinks angrily, _Give me your worst. Tell me what a fuck up I am. Tell me you fucking hate me._

He watches Harry's lips part and curses himself for doing so. Louis is ready for a fight if only Harry would give it to him.

When Harry speaks, his voice comes out low. "Want to go for a drive?" he asks Louis.

Taken aback, Louis reacts unthinking. His mouth is dry and he hears his response only after he says it.

"Sure."

*

The drive out of LA is uneventful. It's late so the traffic is minimal and they make good time. Harry doesn't say where he's going and Louis doesn't ask. They don't speak a word. He's afraid to be the first one to talk, unsure of what will happen if he does.

Instead, Louis watches the city lights disappear in the passenger side window as they head south. He bites the sides of his tongue to stop of scream of frustration that begs release. A thousand unanswered questions lay trapped in the tense set of his jaw.

Harry acts like he's not even there.

Later, when they're flying down the 5 freeway, Louis knows exactly where they're headed and for a moment he allows himself to entertain hope. He studies Harry's profile in the dark of the car. He swallows soundlessly, throwing caution to the wind. Louis drops his hand to the center console, brushes against Harry's knuckles and tries to lace their fingers.

Harry brushes him off and turns the stereo volume up with the same hand, drowning the silence with music. Both of his hands now set firmly against the steering wheel.

Louis watches the headlights reflect off of the silver of Harry's rings. He clenches his teeth. He doesn't bother trying again.

*

They pull off the freeway in Capistrano Beach. Harry stops at a Mexican restaurant right on Pacific Coast Highway, throwing the car into park. The music comes to a jarring halt when he kills the engine, silence returning like a shroud.

Harry looks at Louis finally. Louis can't help but notice how the interior lighting in the car casts dark shadows under Harry's eyes. He wonders if Harry's been sleeping okay, wants to reach across the distance to thumb at the dark circles under his eyes to see if they're as fragile as they look. He doesn't, of course.

"I thought we'd eat here. Don't feel like cooking this late." Harry says.

"Sure. Of course." Louis says, doing his best to sound amenable. Anything to keep Harry talking. Liam was right after all, the silent treatment is unbearable.

Outside, a cold wind whips in from the ocean. Louis shivers and pulls the hood of his sweatshirt up to cover his ears. It is too dark to see the ocean, but Louis can feel the unseasonable humidity in the air.

"I think it might rain." he says.

Harry stares at Louis for a moment, mulling a bit before speaking. "We better hurry then."

 

The restaurant is mostly empty, minutes from closing, but the owner seats them anyway. They order off the menu quickly before returning to stony silence.

Harry won't even meet Louis' eyes.

Louis downs a Corona like it's water and watches Harry pick mindlessly at his salad without eating much.

 _Good,_ Louis thinks with another wave of anger, _he's as miserable as me._ He wonders why Harry even brought him along if he wasn't going to bloody speak to him.

When the waitress stops by their table to ask them if they need anything, Louis shakes his head. What they need is beyond the assistance of restaurant staff, he thinks moodily. "Just the check, please. Thanks." he says.

*

Back in the car, they drive the short distance on PCH in silence before Harry pulls off the highway and onto a private road. Harry rolls down his window as he stops at the guard shack. The asphalt outside smells damp, mixes with the scent of the sea, and once again Louis thinks it might rain.

"Welcome back, Mr. Styles. It's always great to see you." the guard greets Harry with a smile.

Louis watches the interaction with mild amusement. Harry's expression instantly brightens and Louis is hard pressed not to feel jealous that the guard gets Harry's dimpled smile while he gets the silent treatment. Harry chats for a moment, inquiring about the guard's wife and children. It's just in his nature to be so genuinely caring and interested in others. That's what drew Louis to him in the first place, all those years ago. He's constantly challenged Louis to be a better, kinder person.

But right now, it just makes him all the more irritated. 

The guard mentions something about the crazy weather and how he hopes it'll clear up soon so Harry can fully enjoy his time here. Ducking down to press the parking pass on the dashboard of the car, the guard catches Louis' eye, recognition registering instantly. The guy's smile falters only for a moment, but Louis sees the judgment written all over his face. Honestly, did everyone fucking know his business already? He wants to scream, but knows it won't help his case.

"Mr. Tomlinson," the guard says, voice overly professional, "haven't seen you in a while. Always glad to have you back."

Louis bites his tongue and just tries his best to smile politely, hoping it doesn't look like a grimace.

"Well, it's been a long day so..." Harry starts.

The guard gets the hint and nods. "Of course. Of course. I won't keep you any longer. You have a great night, Mr. Styles." The guard waves them off, hitting the switch to open the gate. "Mr. Tomlinson." he adds as an afterthought.

Louis resists the urge to flip him off, but Harry is already pulling through the gate and onto the private road lined with beach houses. Harry's home is literally one of the last houses on the road, so it still takes another five minutes driving at a snail's pace to get there. As Harry pulls into the garage, Louis is still confused. Why Harry brought him here is beyond him. He hasn't been here in months and never in his wildest dreams did he equate Harry asking him to go for a drive with ending up at Harry's ultra private getaway home. Certainly not given the fact that Harry wasn't speaking to him these days.

They exit through the side door of the garage, Louis locks the doorknob, letting Harry go first. It is his house, after all. As they climb the steps to the front door, the sound of crashing waves greets Louis like a long lost friend. The sound simmers his anger a bit, enough for him to even admire the sight of Harry's arse in his skintight jeans a few steps ahead of him on the staircase. So many lovely memories of that bum and the ocean and this house, Louis is lost to it for a moment. So much so that he almost runs into Harry at the top of the stairs as he pauses to unlock the front door.

"Looks like you're right." Harry says, glancing over his shoulder as the door swings open.

Louis blinks at him, confused, until Harry gestures to the sky. It's then when Louis feels the light mist on his face. He was too far gone in memory to even notice that it had, in fact, begun to rain in southern California in the middle of July.

*

The first thing Louis notices is how warm it is inside Harry's house. The air feels heavy and close from being shut up for so long; it weighs him down almost as much as the stilted awkwardness between them. Harry doesn't seem to notice. He flicks a light switch so the open floor plan of the kitchen and living area is lit softly. Louis takes in the familiar scene. Not much has changed in the months since he's been here last and yet Louis still feels out of sorts. He feels like a stranger here, the distance between Harry and himself insurmountable.

Once again, Louis is so in his own head that he barely notices the sound of Harry dropping his car keys in the bowl resting on the kitchen island. The sound shakes Louis from his thoughts and his eyes find Harry's in the dimly lit room. Running a hand over the back of his neck, Harry purses his lips thoughtfully.

 _Don't do that,_ Louis thinks. Every single thing Harry does is attractive to Louis and it didn't do him any good when they were at odds with one another.

Harry's hand falls and dusts over the side of his leg, drumming lightly on the side of this thigh. Louis hates himself for noticing.

"I'm gonna go shower," Harry says, jerking his head in the direction of the stairs, "I'm gross."

Louis wants to say something along the lines of "you're anything but gross. You're gorgeous," but knows better. Instead, he shrugs a shoulder. "Alright then."

Harry stalls for a moment, staring at Louis unblinking. He flares his nostrils on an exhale and Louis notices just the slightest upturn of one side of Harry's lips.

"Alright." Harry says finally and disappears up the stairs.

Louis lets out a breath he didn't even know he was holding.

*

Louis wastes no time in raiding Harry's liquor cabinet. He pours himself some of Harry's most expensive liquor and sips at it, savoring the burn at the back of his throat. It eases the tension in his limbs and calms the confusion swirling in his head. Harry was making absolutely no sense and Louis starts to wonder if he'll get any answers at all.

But answers require questions and Louis is afraid to be the first to breach the barrier of unease between them.

Taking his drink in hand, he walks over to the wall to wall glass doors facing the ocean. He flicks the lock with a finger and slides the door open, the roar of the ocean greets him instantly. It's too dark to see, but Louis breathes in what little peace he can find from the sea. He tilts the tumbler against his lips and drinks deeply. He wishes he could step out on the balcony, but it is already starting to rain harder and he doesn't want to get wet. 

For a fleeting moment, Louis feels trapped but he quickly shakes off the feeling. He was more trapped back on that stage earlier this evening, forced to sing to fans that were decidedly turning against him than he was here in Harry's home. He sighs heavily, remembering one particularly awful sign that read "LOU HAS NO CONTROL OBVSLY. THX 4 BREAKING HARRY'S HEART (& OURS)."

It occurs to Louis that Harry could've seen that sign as well. The thought makes him feel both ashamed of himself and irate at the fan for bringing it in the first place. Harry wasn't just the sweetly prancing innocent he portrayed on stage, Louis wanted to scream. But then again, nor was he _just_ the unfaithful, impregnator of women ex-whatever to Harry. It was so much more complicated than that. Louis knows he doesn't owe it to the fans to explain himself or his actions, but knows deep down that he owes it to Harry.

Harry.

The same Harry who has been giving him the cold shoulder since he announced sheepishly to the guys that he was going to be a father. Does he really owe him anything? It's not like he and Harry were even together like that, he argues with himself. Yes, they fucked. A lot. But it was convoluted. 

The same Harry who brought him down to his beach house and then abandoned him with few words for a shower.

Louis lets his mind wander down that path for a second. He is all too familiar with that shower just one floor above him. He tries not to imagine Harry in said shower but fails miserably. His mind stops on a memory. It was right after Harry had had the house renovated. That shower with its floor to ceiling clear glass facing the ocean, designed specifically to Harry's request so he could observe the marine life while getting clean. 

_"Or while getting blown."_ Louis had sassed. He remembers the way Harry's eyes had darkened with lust at Louis' comment, the quirk of his eyebrow an invitation. He remembers the feel of the cold, wet tile on his knees, the back of his head hitting the glass as Harry slowly fucked his mouth. _"Lou, I think I see a dolphin...Lou...fuck."_ Harry had panted. It was ridiculous and endearing and it had turned him on more than he cared to admit.

But all that is gone now, Louis thinks. Or is it? Is that why he was here? Why Harry had brought him here? 

With the alcohol lighting fiery courage through his bloodstream, he hurries back inside with sudden clarity. He drops his glass on the kitchen counter and takes the stairs two at a time, brain struggling to keep up with his body. He barely notices Harry's bedroom as he moves through it to get to the master bathroom. His heart is in his throat and he hears his own pulse in his ears as he stops at the closed bathroom door, his fingers grasping the doorknob. He hesitates.

That second's hesitation is all it takes for the doubt to come creeping back in. He leans his forehead against the door and struggles to catch his breath. He mouths a curse as his hand slips off the doorknob. It's then that he hears the water of the shower come to a halt. And coward that he is, Louis wastes no time in flying back downstairs to get as far away from whatever mistake he was poised to make. 

The first thing he does when he gets downstairs is knock back the rest of his drink. He throws himself down on Harry's couch, wrenches his head back to look at the smooth white blankness of the ceiling. He blinks, hears the soft fall of Harry's footsteps move above him, and wills himself to sleep.

*

"Wake up, sleepyhead."

Louis groans and blinks open his eyes to see Harry towering over him. The events of last night come flooding back to him. The drive out of LA. The tension. His hand on Harry's bathroom door. He's instantly set on edge, despite the harmless expression Harry's giving him. 

He rubs the sleep from his eyes. "Hi," he says.

"Here," Harry says, pressing a cup of tea into Louis' hands. "I'm making eggs."

Sitting up, Louis grips the mug in his hands, breathes in the steam. His feet hit the stone floor and he realizes that he's barefoot. He watches Harry move about the kitchen, preparing the food. Had he kicked off his own shoes and found a blanket to tuck himself in on the couch? Or had Harry done it for him? Louis can't recall and his head is still fuzzy with sleep.

He pads over to the kitchen island, seats himself on a barstool and watches Harry while he's faced towards the stove. He admires the way Harry's simple white t-shirt stretches across his back as he reaches for the salt. Louis lets his eyes slide lower, just for a second, to appreciate the gentle curve of his bum in dark sweatpants slung low on his hips. He tears his eyes away when Harry spins around with two plates of eggs and toast. He takes a sip of his tea, hoping he's discreet enough for Harry to not notice. 

Harry seems oblivious as he reaches across the kitchen island to place the plate in front of Louis with a close-lipped smile. Harry's easy smile digs at Louis, erasing his momentary fondness and replacing it with all the weirdness from the night before. To be quite honest, it makes Louis' blood boil a little that Harry can carry on like this with tea and breakfast and comfortable silence. It's anything but comfortable for Louis.

Louis places his mug on the counter, lowering his head to fork some eggs into his mouth. _Delicious, of fucking course._ He sneaks a glance at Harry from underneath his fringe and sees that Harry's still standing on the other side of the island, hands resting on either side of the plate on the granite surface.

"It's raining quite hard now." Harry's voice startles Louis. He glances over his shoulder at the glass wall facing the ocean. The sky is heavy with dark clouds, the lack of sun making the sea go dull and colorless. The glass is streaked with rain, but Louis can still see the tide, angry and turbulent, like him. If the weather is truly all they had to talk about, he'd had enough.

Dropping his fork, Louis places his hands on the counter, mirroring Harry's body language unintentionally. He stares at Harry and lets out a breathy, bitter laugh.

"This is ridiculous."

"Does it need more seasoning? I could add more onion--" Harry says, reaching for the onion salt.

Without thinking, Louis reaches across the counter to stay Harry's hand, fingers on his wrist. Harry recoils from the touch as if burned, lips parting in a huffed breath. That alone gives Louis reassurance that he's not going crazy. Harry's just as uncomfortable as he is, he's just better at hiding it. Louis knows that he's never been one to keep his mouth shut when he has something to say and it dawns on him that maybe that's what all the silence is about. Harry has probably been waiting for Louis to speak first because that's what he's known for. Louis swallows hard, his fingers hanging in the air between them. He pulls them back.

"Not the eggs. The eggs are fine, Harry. _This._ " Louis says, gesturing between them.

Harry stares at him blankly, like a deer caught in the headlights. "I- I'm not sure what you mean?"

Louis feels his left eyelid start to twitch. "You and I both know that stupid doesn't become you." he says, practically snarling. _Come on,_ he thinks.

Harry pushes back from the counter, arms crossing over his chest. His exhale audible, pushing through his nostrils as his brow furrows.

"Well?" Louis prods.

Harry moves one of his hands to rub at his mouth, but doesn't respond.

Louis is fuming, looking for a crack in Harry's armor. "Come on, then. You practically kidnapped me. Surely, you must have something to say. I don't think I can stand much more of your--"

"How could you?" Harry's voice, low and drawn out, cuts Louis off midsentence. Ah, right to the heart of the matter. Louis doesn't miss a beat. All the silence, all the growing tension has him like a bow pulled taut and with Harry's three words, he releases.

"How?" Louis says, voice louder than he means it to be, " _How?_ It's called sex, Harry. I know you're familiar with the mechanics of it."

Harry's cheeks flush and Louis knows it's not from embarrassment. _Good,_ he thinks, _get angry_. The sight alone gives him fuel to continue, no longer bothering for a response.

"Oh, you meant _how could I_ be the arsehole who fucked someone else and knocked her up in one go?" His voice is venomous, each word an arrow shot at Harry. Louis sees the armor crumble in the rise and fall of Harry's chest, in the deepening furrow between his brows.

"This was a mistake." Harry says, head turning and blinking back tears.

Louis stands, the barstool sounding loudly against the tile floor. "But we're just getting started!" he shouts.

On cue, the kitchen lights up with a flash, only a second passing before the thunder follows, a deafening blow. Louis thinks he can almost feel the house shake with the noise.

Harry shakes his head, his lips pulled in a tight smile as he exhales loudly. "You know what? It's fine." His voice shakes on the words and he's already halfway around the counter. Louis turns around to watch as Harry moves across the room, hand reaching for the sliding glass doors. "You stay. I'll go."

The door slides open and with it brings the sound of pouring rain and ocean waves. Harry doesn't hesitate, stepping out onto the deck and disappearing quickly down the stairs leading to the beach. Louis follows him out, yelling the whole way. "Really? You're the one that brought me here. Don't you want the dirty details?"

Harry either can't hear him or ignores him, long legs already storming the sand, taking him away from the house. Louis watches, heart pounding in his chest, and goes after him. He takes the stairs two at a time, flicking his now soaked fringe out of his eyes. One foot slips on the wet step and for a second, he feels himself falling. He grips at the stainless steel railing, steadies himself and gets down to the sand.

"Bloody hell, Harry, it's raining! Come back! Don't be so dramatic!" he shouts, jogging to catch up.

"Leave me alone!" Harry shouts over his shoulder. The wind whips dark wet curls into his face, but it doesn't slow him.

"It was one time." Louis yells, "One fucking time. The fucking condom broke, ok? It meant nothing. I was just blowing off steam. It was nothing. A fucking one night stand."

Harry stops dead in his tracks, turning on Louis. The look in his eye is serious enough to stop Louis' tirade. He's practically shaking with anger. "How can you say it meant nothing? There's going to be a baby, Louis. A living, _breathing_ child!"

Louis pinches the bridge of his nose out of frustration, breathing heavily. "You know that's not what I meant."

"Of course," Harry scoffs, "Because you always do that. Act out and say things without thinking them through. Jesus, Lou, you've really outdone yourself this time."

"Ah, there's my high and mighty Harold come down from his judgmental throne." Louis bounces on the balls of his bare feet, the sand cold and wet.

Harry rolls his eyes. "Oh, give it a rest, would you? We're making a scene."

Another flash of lightning lights up the sky, Louis swears he sees it strike the horizon. The thunder rumbles loudly, Louis only shouts louder. "It's fucking storming! No one gives a shit about us right now! This is about you and me. This is your fault."

"You getting a girl pregnant is my fault?" Harry deadpans, his eyebrow lifting. "Right."

Louis drags his bottom lip through his teeth, his hands hanging at his sides ball into fists. Well, they were doing this then. "If you hadn't wanted that stupid little _break_ none of this would have happened." he says, voice cracking a little. He hates himself for sounding so affected.

Harry's eyes widen and then narrow in a split second. "I never wanted a break, Louis!" Harry screams, his voice gone hoarse.

Louis sways as the words hit him, but he doesn't get to process it because Harry doesn't stop.

"I never wanted that! You were the one too scared to label what we had. Too fucking _terrified_ of what it meant to take that next step."

Louis swallows hard, watching Harry's chest rise and fall, his t-shirt completely drenched and plastered to his ribs. This is worse than Louis could've imagined. "Harry," he says.

Harry shakes his head violently, rainwater flicking off his hair and into Louis' face. "No. I'm not finished. You were afraid. So, I suggested we cool off out of respect for you. I thought maybe it would give you time to reflect and figure out how you felt. Maybe we'd come out stronger for it. And then you're telling us you're going to be a dad? It felt like the world had just caved in on me. I couldn't breathe. I couldn't even look at you!

"I thought, _well, there's your answer, Styles. You gave him space and he took it. That's that._ ' And yeah, I let the bitterness take over. I shut you out. Because you'd rather be with someone else. But I've seen how miserable you've been and that hurts me too. And we were friends before anything else, you know? I thought at least I could be a friend to you. I could bring you here, away from the reporters and the paparazzi... give you a quiet place to rest and clear your head."

Louis listens as Harry's words crash into him. Oh, he was idiot. He truly was. How could he have missed the signs? "Shit." he hisses, stepping forward. "Haz."

The space between them diminishes as Louis slips his fingers into Harry's damp curls at the base of his neck. Harry flinches at the touch, but he doesn't pull away. He gasps for air through parted lips, rain water running down his face in rivulets. He looks gorgeous like that and how could Louis have missed it before?

"You're too fucking good for me, you know that? You deserve so much better." Louis says, all of the fight gone out of him. He stares into Harry's eyes, refusing to break eye contact as another roll of thunder deafens them.

"I don't want better." Harry says, lowering his head. They're so close, Louis feels Harry's breath on his face. "I want you."

The words send warmth spiraling through Louis. Stupid, bloody misunderstanding, he thinks. He lifts his head and eliminates what little space is left between them, pressing his lips to Harry's. Harry hesitates for only a second before Louis can feel him come loose, fitting his arms around him, pulling him close. He kisses him back and Louis' eyes slip closed in relief.

"I want you." Harry says again when their lips part.

"Even after all the shit I've put you through? Even with a baby?" Louis asks softly. He's nervous. Now that there's hope, the possibility of losing it all - losing Harry - is too much to stomach.

Harry's face softens with a smile. His fingers trace circles into Louis' jaw line. The corner of his mouth turns up, dimples popping before he's full out grinning. "Lou, are you--?"

Louis tries not to roll his eyes. Don't ruin this moment with sass, he thinks. "I'm a terrible person and it's clear I make shit choices, but I can say without a doubt, you are not one of them. You make me want to do better. To be better. I can't promise I won't fuck it up from time to time, but I know I want this. More than anything. I'm yours, Harry, if you'll still have me."

Harry is still grinning when he curls into Louis' arms like an oversized kitten, head buried in Louis' neck. He feels Harry's heart beat against his chest and it's the most okay he's felt in months. He feels the weight of all his worry roll off his shoulders. His eyes slip closed again as he inhales Harry.

"Boyfriend, Lou." Harry murmurs into his skin, mouth hot on Louis' neck.

"Yeah," Louis agrees, squeezing just a little tighter, his nails scratching at the base of Harry's skull. "Now, can we please go inside?"

*

Harry shuts the sliding glass door with his free hand, the sounds of the storm and sea disappearing behind the glass. Harry's other hand is caught in Louis', their fingers tangled tightly. The only sound in the room is the soft fall of rainwater dripping off their clothes. The grin that has yet to leave Harry's face is infectious. Louis feels his own smile tugging towards his ears. Stepping back, Harry leans against the glass door pulling Louis closer. Louis goes willingly. He knows that look, all lopsided grin and bedroom eyes. He's fallen for it before. His bare feet slip on the wet floor sending him straight into Harry's arms. What a cliché, he thinks happily. Louis acts like it wasn't an accident, pressing his lips to Harry's without a second thought.

They kiss like they're making up for lost time, heated and messy. Burying his hands in Harry's hair, Louis pulls him impossibly close. His tongue teases at Harry's lower lip and licks inside, deepening their kiss. A soft noise comes from the back of Harry's throat and it's enough to make Louis half hard. Harry slides his hands down Louis' back, the wet material of his t-shirt sticking between hand and back, to curve around his bum.

Louis lets him tug his body closer, gasping into his mouth when Harry slides a thigh between his legs. Shamelessly, Louis grinds his hips against him and happily finds that Harry's hard as well. It feels so good and it's been so long and it's Harry and it'll all be over much too soon if Harry keeps making those noises when they kiss.

Sucking Harry's bottom lip into his mouth, Louis bites down gently before releasing him. Harry's eyes slowly flutter open, lips pink and kiss swollen. _He's too damn beautiful_ , Louis thinks, _and he's-_

"Mine." Harry says softly, reading Louis' mind. He lowers his head to trail kisses along Louis' jaw. "Mine." he says again, nipping at Louis' pulse before soothing with his tongue. "Mine." Their lips collide again.

"Oi! Quite possessive now, are we?" Louis murmurs against Harry's mouth.

Harry laughs and reiterates his point by slipping his fingers along the inside of the top of Louis' joggers to squeeze at his arse. "Better get used to it." he says, smirking.

Louis growls, dragging Harry's head down for another open mouthed kiss. He slides his hand between them, palming Harry through his sweatpants. " 'm gonna suck you off." he says when their lips part.

"Lou, you don't-"

"-I _want_ to. Fuck, I want to. There is literally nothing else I'd rather do at this moment. Making you come is my number one priority." He's babbling and he's tugging at Harry's clothes and he doesn't even care if he sounds desperate. He just wants to feel Harry's skin instead of his rain soaked clothes. He needs this. Needs him.

Harry smiles and scrubs a hand over his face and through his hair. Louis feels the flick of rain on his face and smiles when he sees the faintest trace of a blush on Harry's cheeks. Harry nods almost imperceptibly and Louis wants to cheer. He follows Harry's eyes, sees him scanning the open floor plan and the stairway to his bedroom. 

_Too far,_ Louis thinks impatiently.

But then Harry's pulling him by the hand over to the sofa where Louis had just been asleep hours before.

"The leather. We're soaked." Louis protests.

Unfazed, Harry sinks his fingers into Louis' hair at the back of his neck, pulling him in for another kiss. "I'll buy another one." he growls into Louis' mouth. 

It's all the convincing Louis needs. With hands greedy for flesh, Louis bunches the damp hem of Harry's shirt in his hands, breaking the kiss only long enough to pull it over Harry's head. He only vaguely hears the wet slap of the shirt hitting the stone floor because his hands are already roaming Harry's chest and back.

Harry's hands tug at Louis' shirt, but Louis breaks their kiss to push him back and down onto the sofa. For just a moment, Louis admires the sight of Harry breathing hard, half naked and laid out just for him. Louis slides his hand down the front of his joggers, pressing the heel of his hand against his dick to take the edge off. Harry bites his lip, eyes following Louis' hand. 

Groaning, Louis wastes no time in climbing on top of Harry, knees resting on either side of his hips. He pins Harry's wrists against the cushions above his head, licking into his mouth for another kiss. He slides his lips to Harry's jaw, huffing out a breath when he feels Harry shift his hips, grinding up against him ever so slightly. Louis kisses his way down Harry's torso and relishes the sound of Harry's whimper when he nips at his hipbone.

"I'm still mad at you." Harry mumbles, though Louis knows he doesn't mean it.

Tugging down Harry's sweatpants, Louis glances from Harry's erection back to his face with a lifted eyebrow. "Sure have a funny way of showing it." he says, trying not to smirk and failing miserably.

Dimples pop as Harry grins. "Fuck. Off." 

"I plan on it." Louis says, not missing a beat.

" _Ugh_." Harry groans, running a hand over his face.

Louis grins, eyes crinkling with mirth. "You know, I always love a challenge, Harold." he says. 

He doesn't waste any time waiting for a response, ducking low to wrap his lips around the head of Harry's cock. He's quite pleased with himself when he hears Harry swear loudly, one of his big hands clutching at Louis' shoulder, fingers burying in the wet material of his t-shirt. Louis licks along the length of Harry's cock before flattening his tongue against the underside, taking him deep. He wraps his hand around the base of Harry's cock, stroking him in rhythm with his mouth. Harry is squirming underneath him and making all sorts of wonderful noises. It's almost enough to make Louis come in his pants.

"Louis," Harry pants, hands grasping at Louis' shoulders, "Lou... _fuck_... I'm--"

Louis looks up to Harry through his lashes, not even bothering to take his mouth off of him. He holds Harry's stare for a second. Meaning unmistakable, Louis uses his free hand to cover Harry's own, guiding Harry's fingers into his hair at the back of his head. He sinks all the way down, Harry's cock hitting the back of his throat. Harry lets out a strangled moan and Louis feels him come, spurting warmth down his throat as he swallows.

Rubbing a soothing hand over Harry's laurel tattoos, he eases off him. He wipes at his mouth with the back of his hand and admires the pretty flush on Harry's chest. His curls are a mess, fanned out on the couch and his pupils are blown. Before Louis can even gloat about a job well done, Harry is dragging him down onto the couch. His hands push Louis' joggers and pants down over the curve of his arse and his tongue laves at Louis' pulse point.

Harry brushes a thumb over the slit of Louis' dick and uses the precome to ease his strokes as he takes him in hand. Louis sucks in a sharp breath through his teeth as his eyes flutter shut. It's been too long and the feeling of Harry's hand is overwhelming. "Shit, Hazza, I'm not going to last long." he hisses through gritted teeth as Harry squeezes him.

Louis opens his eyes to see Harry watching him intently. His gaze is tender and open and it shakes Louis to the core. " 's okay, Lou," Harry whispers, pressing his lips to Louis'.

It only takes two more strokes before Louis is whimpering into Harry's mouth, shooting hot over Harry's hand.

They lay there, tangled together and gasping for breath, and it isn't long before Louis falls asleep, lulled by the steady thump of Harry's heartbeat by his ear.

*

Much later, Louis wakes, disoriented and sweaty. It takes him a moment to realize where he is, breathing a sigh of relief into Harry's curls. Louis blinks open his eyes. Harry's curled up next to him, mouth parted in sleep to huff little breaths of warm air against Louis' neck. Louis runs a hand over Harry's bicep because he can, knowing Harry is a heavy sleeper. But it's hot and Louis feels like a sticky, sweaty mess, so he gently shifts himself out of Harry's arms and off the couch.

He bends over and drops a kiss on Harry's temple, overwhelmed with gratitude. He meant what he said earlier. Harry was such a naturally selfless and kind person and Louis felt completely unworthy of him most of the time. But he also made him want to try harder. 

"Idiot." Louis whispers to himself. To think he would want to throw all this away without a fight. Thank fuck Harry put up with his idiocy. He turns away, stretching his neck to work out the kinks. He pads silently over to the glass, looking out at the beach. The sun is already low in the sky, getting ready to dip below Dana Point. He smiles to himself, thinking it only right that the storm had run its course along with their misunderstanding. 

Louis' stomach growls loudly enough for him to scowl down at it. His scowl turns into a frown when he notices his shirt, come dried into the material. His stomach protests with another rumble. _Alright_ , he thinks, _food first, then shower._ He walks over to the kitchen and guiltily sees the half-eaten eggs that Harry had cooked for them. He grabs the fork from the counter and devours the eggs, not caring if they were cold. They're still delicious. 

Careful not to make too much noise, he gathers their plates and scrapes the leftovers into the trash. He runs some water over the plates before putting them in the dishwasher. As he dries his hands on a towel, he puffs out his chest. Look, doing dishes and cleaning up after himself like a proper adult. Harry's habits were already rubbing off on him and they'd only been here for twenty four hours.

He stops at the sofa for another look at his sleeping beauty, even dares to run his fingers through Harry's silky curls. Even in sleep, Harry nuzzles into the touch and murmurs nonsense, causing Louis to smile fondly.

He climbs the stairs, stripping off his shirt as he goes. Entering Harry's room, he tosses the shirt into the hamper before stopping at the chest of drawers. He toes open the bottom drawer, frowning when he finds it empty. He always left spare clothes at the house for this very reason. He pushes the drawer shut with his foot and steps into Harry's walk in closet. He flicks the light switch on as he goes and hopes he'll find something wearable. Fingers caressing the different shirts hung there, Louis smiles to himself and admires the patterns and colours he finds there. His hands stop on a sheer, floral printed button down. He leans in to rub his cheek against the material catching just the slightest scent of Harry's cologne on the sleeve. 

He moves on to the shoes next, trailing his fingers over the countless pairs of YSL boots. He snorts, wondering why Harry would need so many at a beach house of all places. He lifts a glittering boot, watching the way the overhead light makes the boot look like it could contain a million sparkling galaxies. He continues deeper into the closet. His eyes are fixed on the glittery boot in his hand, so he doesn't see the box on the floor. He stubs his toe hard on it, the boot falls out of his hands as he swears, looking down to see what he'd run into.

His stomach twists when he sees the cardboard box, thick black permanent marker scrawled in Harry's hand across the lid. _Lou's things_. 

"Shit." he says, crouching down to lift the lid. Sure enough, all his clothes are folded neatly inside. He rifles through the clothes, fingers knocking into something hard. When he pulls it free, his breath catches in his throat. The picture in the frame is old and faded, from their X Factor days. The picture catches them in the moment, Louis smacking a kiss on Harry's cheek. Harry's grin is stupidly huge, dimples deep and eyes crinkling with laughter. His cheeks are flushed pink where Louis' lips are pressed. The picture makes Louis chest ache with guilt. 

What a fucking mess, he thinks. Gripping the frame in his hand, he walks back into the bedroom and gently places the picture on the nightstand by the bed. He nods to himself, biting at a hangnail. He decides right then and there that he'd gladly spend the rest of his life doing penance if he could see Harry smile like that again.

With a sigh, he makes his way to the shower and strips off the rest of his clothes. He lets the hot water beat his skin clean, but his head is still a jumble of thoughts. He squirts some of Harry's expensive shampoo into his hands and scrubs it into his scalp, savoring the familiar scent. He closes his eyes as he rinses off, but he can still see the picture frame and its contents in his head. It's not long before he's replaying things in reverse unable to stop the flow of memories. _"Fix it." Liam says, glancing over his shoulder. The disappointment clear in his face as Louis tells them he's going to be a father. The way Harry's face pales and how he can't quite meet Louis' eyes. Niall's mouth a small, shocked circle. The sound of his mum's voice breaking over the phone as he tells her. His own clawing panic when a one night stand is leaving him hysterical voicemails begging to meet for tea. The feeling of losing control of everything as he watches the girl's mascara run down her cheeks, numb with shock when she whispers about a positive pregnancy test._

His hands slide against the glass wall of the shower, steadying himself. He's gasping for breath and his body is shaking when he notices the water's gone cold. He leans his forehead against the glass, watching the sun dip below the horizon, painting the sky in shades of orange and gold. He sees some of Harry's neighbors farther down the shoreline. A man, spinning a small child closer and closer to the water's edge, the waves washing over their feet. It's all so foreign to him, his own father a phantom before Louis was out of his nappies. Before he knows it, he's sliding to the tile floor with his head between his knees. A gasping sob escapes him, hot tears streaming down his face. The feeling of history repeating itself weighs him down. How was Louis any different from him?

Louis doesn't notice until it's too late, until the shower door wrenches open. Until Harry is moving into the shower fully clothed, the concern on his face sending Louis further into despondency. Louis buries his face into his knees, trying to hide himself away but the look on Harry's face is burned into the back of his eyelids and it only makes him sob harder. He hears the water shut off, feels Harry on the floor next to him, a hesitant hand on his shoulder.

"Oh Lou, oh baby, what's wrong? What is it?" Harry asks.

"I-I don't know what I'm doing," Louis sobs, and then he's reaching out for Harry like a drowning man. He folds himself into Harry, curling into the embrace. Harry pulls him into his lap and holds him tightly, whispering reassurances into his ear.

"It's ok, love. It's alright. I have you. I have you." Harry says again and again, running a soothing hand over Louis' back.

They stay like that for a while, until Louis' panic subsides and he can breathe easier. His fingers play with the damp material of Harry's shirt, but he makes no move to pull out of Harry's arms. Harry's got one of his hands in Louis' hair at the back of his head, rubbing soothingly. 

"I don't want to be like him." Louis says finally, his voice comes out rough and muffled against Harry's chest. 

Harry squeezes him just a little tighter.

" I'm so scared," Louis continues, "So scared I'll mess it up somehow. Just like he did."

Louis feels Harry's fingers leave his hair to trace the line of his jaw, lifting his face. Louis meets Harry's eyes, feeling vulnerable and stripped completely bare. He rarely lets his guard down, least of all in front of others, but Harry always finds a way to be there when he needs him most.

"You're not him, Louis." Harry says firmly. "You're not. You are going to be an amazing father. And you won't be alone, ok? You've got me."

Louis bites his lip and nods his head solemnly as he buries his face into Harry's neck. Heart aching with gratitude, Louis presses himself into Harry's warm embrace for just a little bit longer.

*

Louis wakes up in Harry's bed the next morning only vaguely aware of how he ended up there. He remembers the panic, swirling low in his lungs, traveling upwards and out his throat, in the form of gasping sobs threatening to choke him. He remembers Harry.

Banishing yesterday's demons, he sucks in a breath and inhales the comforting scent of the man he's curled around. In sleep, he fit himself around Harry like a second skin, like second nature, like nothing has changed. Harry's got his hand trapped in his, pressed tight against his chest. Louis feels the steady beat of Harry's heart through their tangled fingers, grounding him like an anchor.

Even with his eyes still closed, Harry invades his senses. He shifts closer, his groin pressing against Harry's bum. He's half hard already and he huffs a breath into the back of Harry's neck at the contact. Louis stills when Harry's fingers tighten on his and pushes his arse back against him.

 _Well,_ Louis thinks, _game on._ He slides his fingers out of Harry's grasp and moves to grip his hipbone, fingers grazing the waistband of Harry's pants. Harry purrs like a fucking kitten and Louis _wants_. He grinds his erection lazily against Harry. Dragging his fingers up Harry's side, he tucks some of his curls behind his ear so he can lean in close.

"Powerless," Louis growls, nosing at Harry's ear, "And I don't care it's _obvious_."

Harry's little hums of pleasure turn into a groan. Louis watches Harry frown, still fighting sleep.

"We're on break." Harry murmurs.

Louis runs his tongue along the shell of Harry's ear. "But I wrote it for you." he pouts, with a not so subtle thrust of his hips.

"Louis." Harry warns, moving away.

Louis laughs and grabs hold of Harry, rolling him so they're facing each other. Louis noses at Harry's throat and jawline.

" _So, baby, don't move at all, because you're about to break my fall._ " Louis sings into Harry's skin.

He feels Harry's foot on his calf, sliding higher. Louis grins victoriously, teeth grazing Harry's throat. Harry slowly blinks open his eyes and smiles, dipping his head so their foreheads touch. 

"Now, kiss me, you--" 

Louis swallows Harry's words, tongue slipping into his already parted lips. They kiss slow and deep, nothing like the fevered desperation of yesterday's encounter, but just as hot. Louis fingers are tangled in Harry's hair and when he tugs on it ever so slightly he's met with Harry moaning into their kiss. It's heady how easy this is, how responsive Harry is to every swipe of Louis' tongue. Louis thinks he'll never tire of just this, kissing Harry, until the end of time. 

Harry's hands slide down to cup Louis ass, pulling him flush against him. He lines their dicks up and grinds against Louis. Louis breaks their kiss, a breathy cry of pleasure escaping his lips and he stops thinking altogether. 

"I missed waking up to this." Harry says softly. 

"I just missed you." Louis pants, because it's the truth, and pulls Harry's head to his for another kiss. 

*

They fall into the easy rhythm of sun and sea, the previous tension washed away with the ever changing tide. Harry gives him space without it feeling uncomfortable, allowing Louis to go at his own pace in whatever this is. Sometimes that means Louis takes long walks alone with his thoughts, letting the Pacific ocean lap at his toes. He skips stones over the water until his arm aches and makes the trek back to the house.

Other times, it means rubbing sunscreen into Harry's back and getting an awkward stiffy. He excuses himself to go wank in the loo, slick hand still smelling of artificial coconut as he jerks himself off. He grits his teeth when he comes thinking about Harry in his too small swim trunks. When he returns, Harry gives him a questioning look but thankfully doesn't say word.

But most of the time, it means just being near one another. They attempt to play football in the sand and Louis can't decide if Harry keeps kicking the ball into the ocean just to see him get wet or if he is just that miserable at sports. Both probably, he thinks.

When the tide is low, they swim until their limbs are weak with exhaustion. Louis almost drowns them both one time when he scrambles up Harry's back in the water. He refuses to let go, arms latching around Harry's neck. ("It was a fucking shark! Don't tell me it was seaweed! A fucking shark touched my fucking leg!") Harry dunks them and Louis comes up spluttering, seawater burning his nose and eyes. Harry laughs uncontrollably while Louis flicks the fringe out of his face. ("Wanker! The shark can have you for all I care!") Louis splashes him halfheartedly and turns to swim for shore before Harry can catch the fond grin plastered all over his face.

Later, Louis makes it up Harry. Sprawled on an oversized beach towel, Harry sits between Louis' thighs while Louis runs his fingers through the other boy's hair, twisting his damp curls into a braid. Satisfied with his handiwork, Louis pulls a little mewl of pleasure from Harry with a light tug to the braid. He drops his lips to Harry's shoulder, skin turning gold from days of sun, and tastes the salty tang of the ocean on his skin.

"Louis." Harry sounds.

"Hmm." Louis drags his mouth over the back of Harry's neck, teeth grazing the knob of bone at the top of his spine.

"Louis." Harry says, louder this time and presses his hand firmly to Louis' knee.

Lifting his head, Louis' eyes follow the length of Harry's arm to where he points out at the sea. "Do you see them?" Harry asks. Louis doesn't have to look at him to see the smile puling at his face. He hears it in his voice.

"Yeah." he says, huffing out a laugh. Just past the breaking waves is a small pod of dolphins, their sea slick skin glistening in the sunlight.

"Beautiful." Harry breathes.

Louis tucks his chin on Harry's shoulder, wraps one of his arms around Harry's waist. "Beautiful." he echoes, nuzzling at Harry's cheek. He doesn't mean the dolphins.

 

Even without cock blocking dolphins, each day's exertions leaves them too tired to do anything more than make out and rut lazily against one another. Most days though, they don't do anything. They collapse into Harry's bed and the sound of Harry's low voice and the crashing of waves outside lull Louis to sleep before he can even think of stealing a goodnight kiss. 

It's all Louis could've asked for and more. Louis is constantly reminded of how Harry anticipates his needs with the utmost kindness. He starts to wonder if Harry knows him better than he knows himself. The space they've created here, the bubble of safety that is the beach and the house and Harry, is temporary. He tries not to think about it ending, about how things will transition when they have to return to the real world. For now, this is comfort enough.

*

It's been a week, maybe longer, Louis has lost track of the days. The sun beats into his skin where he's sat in a beach chair and he feels sweat start to drip down the back of his neck. There's no breeze and the heat is stifling. His sunglasses keep sliding down his nose, but he pushes them up anyway. In truth, he wears them so he can ogle Harry's half naked body sprawled in the chair next to him without seeming like a total creep. He sips at his beer, wincing as the lukewarm liquid hits the back of his throat.

He's restless, a little wound up and a lot sexually frustrated, but he doesn't dare let on. Not after everything Harry's done to ensure his comfort. Instead, he ogles. He knows he's torturing himself, but he just can't help but let his eyes slide over the tanned expanse of Harry's thighs and stomach and fuck, those biceps. Harry's always been fit, but Louis swears he's put on more muscle this tour.

Through his sunnies, he watches Harry peel and eat a banana. Louis shifts in his seat, his dick responding to Harry's ridiculous eating habits. Tongue out first, then he takes an enormous bite, practically deep throating the fruit.

"Harold, if I didn't know any better I'd think you were trying to seduce me." Louis says casually, tossing his empty bottle into the sand at his feet.

Harry smiles, cheeks full. "Is it working?" he asks, eyebrow raised in suggestion.

How Harry can look so enticing with a mouth stuffed full of banana is beyond Louis' comprehension, but his blood goes straight to his groin anyway. Louis grins at Harry, pushing his sunglasses up on his head. He sets his face in a mask of innocence. Dramatically, he leans back in his beach chair with a hand behind his head. He glances down at his lap and then back up at Harry through his lashes.

He's met with a banana peel in the face.

"I think it's time for a swim." Harry says, grinning from ear to ear. He doesn't wait for Louis' response and takes off at a run.

Louis scrubs at his face with a sigh. He wills his erection to go down and watches as Harry prances his way into the ocean. He dives under the waves and comes up on the other side, flicking his hair out of his face like a fucking mermaid. Louis' dick twitches at the sight.

"Fuck me." Louis says under his breath. He's a goner.

*

The next day, Louis wakes well past noon to an empty bed. He's starfished across the mattress with the sheets tangled around his legs. If he takes the moment of privacy to press his face into Harry's pillow, inhaling deeply, there's no one there to call him out on it.

"Good morning, sunshine!" Harry greets him from the kitchen as Louis comes downstairs. The kitchen island is covered in brown paper bags.

"You went grocery shopping." Louis says.

Harry grins, eyes sparkling. "I did." he says.

Louis pulls a pack of a dozen hamburger buns out of one of the bags and waves it in the air. "I know I love to eat, but this is enough to feed a small army! Is there a zombie apocalypse approaching or are you planning on holding me hostage for another month?"

"Not exactly." Harry says with a smirk.

"I'm a willing hostage, just so we're clear. Wait, what?" Louis asks.

"I invited my neighbors over for dinner. A little barbecue amongst friends. Thought it'd be a nice change of pace." Harry says, stacking the refrigerator with hot dogs and hamburgers.

"Robert and Beverly, d'you mean? That sounds lovely." Louis says, passing Harry several ears of corn. Louis recalls the kind retired couple that live full time at the beach house a few down from Harry's. Robert had tried to get Louis to fish with him once, which may or may not have ended with Louis accidentally hitting Robert in the face with the squid used as bait on the end of his line. 

They were ridiculously good people and they treated Harry like a human being, not like a rockstar doll to be posed, played with, and discarded without a second thought. Louis likes them quite a lot.

Harry's still grinning, his bottom lip caught between his teeth as he covertly tries to pull two small bottles of bubbles out the last bag without Louis seeing. Louis narrows his eyes.

"Why are you doing that with your face?" Louis asks, "Are those _bubbles_?"

"I don't know what you're talking about." Harry says, grinning impossibly wider. His hands are stuffed behind his back.

"Spill it." Louis warns. He attacks Harry's sides with a few well placed tickles. Yelping, Harry scrambles out of his reach.

Harry takes a breath, places the bubbles on the counter in front of Louis, one pink and one blue. "Yes," he says, "Beverly and Robert. And their two grandchildren they happen to be babysitting."

"Harry," Louis exhales, instantly recoiling and feeling a desperate need to flee.

Harry's already there, his hands on Louis' waist. "Hey, I know what it looks like, but it wasn't on purpose. I didn't know until after I invited them. We can cancel if you feel uncomfortable."

Louis shakes his head. "We can't cancel on Robert and Beverly, Haz. They're bloody saints!" he says, only the slightest bit of defeat in his voice.

"And all this food will go to waste." Harry adds.

Louis sighs and leans in, Harry meets him halfway so their foreheads rest against one another. Louis lets his arms slip around Harry's waist.

"I'm with you, ok?" Harry says. "If at any point you have to go, you go. But you'll be fine, Lou. I know you will."

Louis closes his eyes and hopes that Harry's right. He feels Harry's lips against his temple, reassuring and warm. Harry's breath is hot at his ear when he speaks next. "I'll make it up to you, promise."

Louis smirks. That's a sentiment he could get behind. "I'm holding you to that." he says.

And then Harry's moving away to get ready for company. Thankfully, he keeps Louis too busy with straightening up for him to worry about the kid situation any further.

*

It's fine. It really is. Louis genuinely likes kids and Robert and Beverly's two grandchildren are no exception. Growing up a Tomlinson, surrounded by siblings, kind of prepared him for this. The grandkids are, as expected, adorable and well-behaved. Of course they are, Louis thinks, being cut from the same cloth as such nice people as Beverly and Robert. The boy, Tyler, all sandy blond hair and big brown eyes, clings to Beverly the entire time and refuses to be put down. He's alert though, Louis notices, watching the evening unfold with wary interest from his grandmother's arms. Louis sees the way Harry pulls faces at the baby, trying to break the ice, and Tyler just buries his face into Beverly's neck. Some unnamed thing tugs gently at Louis insides as he watches and that is clearly enough of that.

"Can I tempt you with a beer, Robert?" Louis asks, tearing his eyes away from Harry and the baby.

Robert nods his assent, smiling widely, and Louis breathes a sigh of thanks. Robert follows Louis into the kitchen and Louis is glad for the way Robert has a tendency to talk his ear off. Louis opens the refrigerator and pulls out two beers, handing one back to Robert. Robert asks about touring and their music and the business side of things and Louis is happy to indulge. He starts to wonder if Hawaiian shirt and khaki short wearing Robert was a musician in his younger days. 

He's about to ask him as much when he lets the door of the fridge close and is met by a pair of pale blue eyes and long blonde hair. The girl stares up unblinking at Louis as she scuffs one sandaled foot on the stone floor of the kitchen. 

"Erm...hello." Louis says first.

The girl just keeps on staring at him. It's a bit unnerving really and the desire to shotgun his beer is overwhelming. 

"D'you have any lemonade?" the girl finally asks, in a voice too big and too loud for such a tiny child.

Louis has to bite his bottom lip to stop the grin from spreading across his face.

"Jamie, what have we been practicing? This here is Louis." Robert says quickly, sending the girl a stern look. 

Louis shrugs, not at all put off by the girl, but Robert shakes his head. Jamie takes a deep breath and looks at her grandfather and Louis swears he sees the slightest bit of defiance in her before she exhales. It's terribly endearing and Louis, against all odds, finds himself enjoying the standoff. But then, she's leveling Louis with that same look.

"Hi Louis. My name is Jamie, _butyoualreadyknowthat._ " she practically seethes.

Louis tries his hardest not to laugh when Robert turns an embarrassed shade of mauve. "It's alright." he says to the man, and then to Jamie, "It's nice to meet you, Jamie."

"Can I have some lemonade, _please_?" The sass is unmistakable and Louis knows he shouldn't indulge it, but he grins.

"Of course! Pink or regular?" he asks cheerily, going back into the fridge. Jamie deliberates for a moment before deciding on pink. Louis smiles and hands her a pouch of lemonade and lowers his fist to her level.

She looks at it for a moment and then meets Louis' eyes. She bumps his fist with her free hand and sticks her tongue out at him with a toothy smile. Then she flees, blonde hair flying behind her.

"What do you say, Jamie?" Robert shouts after her.

"Thank you, Louis!" she yells, without looking back, and runs out onto the deck where the rest of them are settling in.

Louis realizes he's still got his fist hanging in the air and he shakes it off by cracking open his beer and taking a long drink. "Hands full with that one?" he asks.

Robert just laughs. "You have no idea. She's the spitting image of her mother. She cannot be tamed." he says, and despite the words, Louis can see the fondness all over Robert's face. "Wait until you have your own, Louis. You won't know what hit you." 

Louis swallows hard. It's fine. It really is. Robert has no idea. Louis focuses on how the beer in his hand is slowly making his fingers numb. "We should probably get back out there." he says finally, hoping he doesn't sound rude, but it's all he can manage.

 

The rest of the evening goes smoothly. Harry starts to grill, leaving Louis to chat with Robert and Beverly. It's great being alone with Harry, it is, but Louis is a social creature and finds himself laughing heartily at Beverly's stories. It's all perfectly alright until Beverly tries to get Louis to hold Tyler and then Louis is on his feet so fast with hands full of empty beer cans and dirty snack plates.

"I'm going to go see if Harry needs any help with the grill." he says, inwardly cringing when he sees the little look of alarm on Beverly's face. But he can't. Can't go there. The wound is still too raw. He shoots her a small smile as consolation and then turns on his heel. 

After dumping the trash in the kitchen, he goes back to the other side of the deck to where Harry is grilling the food. He slides in next to him, slipping the spatula from his grasp. "Let me." he says, hoping Harry hadn't felt his hand shaking as he did so. 

"You okay?" Harry asks with a hand on Louis' waist.

Louis nods quickly and bumps his hip against Harry. "Go enjoy yourself. I'll finish up here." he says.

Harry stares at him for a moment and Louis knows that he wants to press further. Knows that Harry can read him like a book. So, he leans in and smacks a kiss right on Harry's mouth. A quick peck, nothing more, but enough to erase the furrow creasing Harry's brow. 

"I'm fine." Louis says, "Go."

Harry nods and gives Louis' waist one last squeeze. He leans in close and presses his lips to the back of Louis' neck before walking away.

Louis breathes a sigh of relief and only slightly burns the burgers.

 

The sun dips past the horizon when they're finished with dinner, painting the sky in burnt orange and yellow. It's still pleasant out, a warm breeze coming in from the sea, so they stay out on the deck and chat amicably about nothing important. It's nice, Louis thinks, as he picks at the label on his beer bottle and listens to the calming tone of Beverly's voice. She's talking about some drama between the ladies in her book club. Louis laughs with her, glad to set his own problems aside for a while to realize that everyone has their own shit to deal with, even with little old ladies and their books.

How Harry manages to remain engaged in the conversation, though, amazes Louis. In between speaking, Harry entertains Jamie by blowing bubbles for her. The girl's taken a liking to Harry (who wouldn't, honestly) and giggles gleefully every time she manages to pop one. Harry tilts the wand to blow the bubbles higher, but Jamie is determined and reaches up on tiptoe to catch them.

Warmth floods Louis' belly at the scene, he ducks his head low to hide his smile. Robert pulls his attention away to ask him about fishing conditions and Louis is forced to ignore the unbearable cuteness.

They go on like that, enjoying the evening, for a while. There's a pause in the conversation, but it's comfortable. The sound of the waves close by lull Louis into a sense of ease. If it wasn't rude, he could almost let his eyes slip closed for just a moment.

Beverly is there, all at once, crowding Louis' space. 

"Louis, dear, you don't mind, do you?" she asks, already moving without waiting for his response. "I'll be just a minute."

And suddenly, Louis' arms are full of baby and there is nothing he can do about it. He watches Beverly beat a hasty retreat inside the house towards the bathroom, curses her out in his head and instantly regrets it. 

The weight of Tyler's sleeping body presses into his chest, the warmth of his skin seeping into Louis, wrapping itself around his guarded heart to chip at the armor there. Tyler snuffles a bit in his sleep, chubby little fingers fisting in the front of Louis' t-shirt and there's a another tiny little crack forming in Louis' armor. Up close, he can count each of Tyler's pale blond eyelashes that brush against the baby's cheeks.

Before he knows what he's doing, Louis leans in, nose brushing the top of Tyler's head and inhales the sweet scent of baby. The crack widens, a glow peeking out from the inside.

"Oh," Louis says to himself.

When he tears his eyes away and lifts his head, he sees Harry with Jamie pressed up against his side, the little girl's mouth open in a yawn. Harry's crooked grin is undeniable; Louis can't look away even if he wanted to.

 _You ok?_ Harry mouths.

Louis feels the smile tugging at his lips and the corners of his eyes. The armor crumbles. He wonders if Harry can see it, the fucking glow like a neon sign flowing out of the cracks in his heart. It floods his bloodstream like champagne, warmth seeping into his every pore with its effervescence. Louis swallows around the lump lodged in his throat and let's go. 

_I'm ok_ , he thinks happily and nods his assent. The grin he beams at Harry must surely make him look mad, but Harry lights up like the sun. Harry loops an arm around Jamie's shoulder and cuddles her close, dimples flashing at Louis.

It's all too much. For a moment, the future floods out in front of Louis' eyes. _This is what it could be like,_ he thinks. Louis could laugh out loud because in this moment it's not nearly as daunting as he expects... because it's Harry. He wants this with Harry. The realization is something akin to running straight into a brick wall. His desire for it, shocking and unrelenting. It leaves him almost breathless.

Then, as if on cue, baby Tyler has the common decency to bring his imagination back down from the clouds by waking and promptly vomiting all over Louis' t-shirt.

*

" _Today the stormy sea lifted us in a kiss so high that we trembled in a lightningflash and, tied, we went down to sink without untwining._ "

Harry closes the book he reads aloud from and tosses it on the coffee table. Louis squeezes one of his ankles where they rest in his lap. They're finally alone.

"Don't stop." Louis says, looking over at Harry.

Harry runs his hand through his hair, brushing the still damp curls out of his face. He shrugs. "You're bored."

Louis rubs circles on Harry's anklebones. It's the perfect ending to an almost perfect day, but he could never admit that without laying all his cards on the table and he still is not sure if he's ready to admit it to himself let alone Harry. He's not bored, though, not in the slightest. Harry with his honey slow voice could recite the Oxford dictionary and Louis would still be captivated.

Harry kicks his feet out of Louis' grasp to sit up on the couch.

"That's it. Go get ready. We're going out." Harry says simply.

Louis huffs a laugh at Harry's sudden change of pace. "What?"

"I promised I'd make it up to you, for earlier. I'm a man of my word even if you did enjoy yourself with the kids." Harry smiles cheekily.

Louis opens his mouth to protest but finds that he can't. He simply takes Harry's outstretched hand and finds himself pulled from the couch.

"Go put on some real clothes and I'll have a car pick us up in twenty." Harry says.

It wasn't what Louis had in mind when Harry had promised to make it up to him, but he's still buzzing with energy from earlier. A proper night out could be good too. Louis doesn't need to be told twice.

 

Louis waits for Harry at the bottom of the stairs. It didn't take long for him to dig through his limited clothing options to settle on a pair of skinny jeans that hugged his bum in all the right places and a scoop neck dark maroon shirt. He'd done his hair up in a quiff to offset the casual clothes. He checks himself out in the mirror by the front door when headlights glint off the reflection. He looks out the window and watches the town car pull up in front of the house.

"Haz," Louis calls up the stairs, "The car's here."

It's only another minute before Harry's coming down the stairs. Louis sees him in reverse. Boots first, glittering in the dim hallway light, followed by impossibly long legs. His black jeans so tight they look painted on.

Louis bites his lip unconsciously.

Harry's shirt is a sheer black button down only half done up, the top of his butterfly tattoo peaking out. He's standing in front of Louis now, all glossy curls, green eyes, and pink lips. Louis has to tilt his head back just slightly to drink him all in and lock eyes with Harry. Louis thinks he looks good enough to eat.

 _Easy_ , Louis tells himself.

Harry touches him, a feather-light brush of his fingertips in his quiff, slipping down the side of his neck. Harry's fingers burn a inquisitive trail of fire along Louis' exposed collarbones. Louis feels himself shudder, starved for touch and inhales sharply through his nose.

"You look nice." He says, shamelessly leaning in to Harry. The need to be closer to him is everything. He breathes him in and catches just the slightest hint of vanilla and spice. It's intoxicating and so Harry that it makes Louis a little bit dizzy. _Smells nice, too._ he thinks.

Harry hums at the compliment. His voice is a low rumble when he replies, "So do you."

His breath is hot against Louis' face. All Louis would have to do is push up on his toes to close the distance between them.

But Harry steps back and the trance is broken. "Ready to go?" he asks.

Louis breathes out, but the tension remains. His skin feels hot where Harry had touched him. Ready to go is a huge understatement. Louis is ready to press Harry up against a wall to devour him and say screw it to the night out. But he reins it in and nods. "Let's do this." he says.

*

The drive is short, but long enough to have Louis' legs bouncing in anticipation. He makes a point of leaving space between their bodies, but he can still feel the heat of Harry's body rolling off of him in waves. He watches Harry's fingers drum out a rhythm on his own knee, his rings glinting in the dark of the car. He is glad to know he's not the only one who's antsy.

When they arrive at their destination, the driver comes around to open the door for them. For a moment, Louis forgets, expects to hear the ever present roar of hungry fans and greedy media. He steps out of the car after Harry, instinctively ducks his head against the blinding light of camera flash only to find there are no paparazzi. It is only the dim yellow lights from the parking lot and the steady bass beat coming from inside the small nondescript club. 

Louis sends off a silent prayer of thanks to the gods of south Orange County as Harry meets his eyes with a smile. Then Harry does it and takes Louis completely by surprise. He slips his hand into Louis', fingers lacing and pressing gently, in front of everyone. Everyone is merely their driver, the security guard at the front of the club, three people milling about in the parking lot having a cigarette, and the stars in the clear night sky, but it's something. Harry's grip on his hand sends heat up his arm and down into his stomach.

It feels like standing on the roof of a skyscraper and looking out over the edge. Louis feels weightless and dangerously free. He grins at Harry and squeezes back before Harry's pulling him along to the entrance of the club.

 

The club is packed with people and Louis can feel the beat of the music in his bones. It fills him with adrenaline, being led by Harry's hand through the throng of bodies towards the bar. They'd never dared to do this in any of the Hollywood hotspots, the risk of getting papped too great. But tonight, Louis was buzzing with freedom and desire. If a picture of their clasped hands showed up on the internet tomorrow morning, Louis was hard pressed to care.

Harry flags down the bartender and orders them drinks. They stay there at the bar, just drinking and observing the club. They take their time and it's nice, Louis thinks, being able to be with Harry in public without it being the end of the world.

Harry catches Louis staring at him out of the corner of his eye and flashes a brilliant smile at him. "Shots?" he asks, dimples popping.

Louis nods. And why not? He's already pleasantly tipsy and some tequila wouldn't hurt in the slightest. The bartender lines up their shots and Louis takes one of the glasses. He clinks his shotglass with Harry's.

"Cheers." he says, before throwing the liquor back. He feels the sting immediately. He bites back a laugh at Harry's grimace and watches him suck on a lime. It'd be erotic, those pinks lips of his pursed around the wedge, if not for the adorably disgruntled furrow of his brow. It's so mundane, but it fills Louis with fondness. He doesn't know why Harry puts up with him but he's grateful all the same. There's no way he'd be able to handle the coming issues on his own half as well without Harry by his side.

Harry interrupts his thoughts, lips brushing against Louis' ear. "Let's dance and pretend no one's watching." His voice is low compared to the pounding bass of the club's music, but because Louis is ever attuned to the other boy, he hears every word. The implication of Harry's words sends heat coiling low in Louis' stomach.

He pulls back to meet Harry's eyes, pupils large in the dim light.

"I like the way you think, Styles." he says around a smirk, "I'm gonna go for a wee and then you're on."

Harry rolls his eyes but laughs. "You sure know how to charm a man." he says.

"Oh, you haven't seen anything yet. Don't disappear, yeah?" Louis says.

Harry reaches out and touches Louis at his waist. "I'm not going anywhere." he says, every trace of humor gone from his face.

Louis smiles, unable to respond, and turns away to go in search of the toilets. Harry's words echo in his head making him feel giddy and weightless.

 

Business taken care of, Louis heads back to the bar. He sees it happening before he gets there, the deeply rooted jealousy rearing its ugly head before Louis' brain has time to play catch up. Harry's back is to him, but it's not him that has Louis' attention. No, it's the older man with badly bleached hair and a surfer's tan who has his hand on Harry's bloody bicep. The man smiles at Harry with glowing white teeth and Louis has the sudden urge to punch the man in his perfect fucking face. He bites the inside of his cheek and tastes blood.

It's a scene he's been witness to countless times and he's always been powerless to stop them. It didn't matter if behind the scenes he and Harry were whatever they had been. In the public eye, Louis was forced to sit back and not act the jealous lover every time some sleazy jerk made a pass at Harry. Harry, of course, too decent a human being to cause any drama always showed them polite disinterest before moving on. And if Louis let his jealousy manifest itself in love bites marking Harry's skin where his clothes would hide them, Harry had never complained.

Things were different tonight, though. They were essentially off the radar. If Louis wanted to knock Mr. O.C. unconscious he totally could, but he can imagine Harry's reaction and that only is enough to stay his hand. Instead, he goes with his second idea.

Silently, he sidles up next to Harry. The man is talking incessantly, but Louis ignores him. He rests his hand firmly on the small of Harry's back before the rest of his body catches up. He presses himself along the side of Harry's body like he belongs there. And well, he _does_ belong there, damn it.

Harry looks at him, relief clear on his face but there's also a trace of intrigue. He flares his nostrils, the corner of his mouth tugging up in a small smile and Louis is struck with the immediate need to kiss the smirk off the other boy's face.

So, he does.

Just the slight push of his toes gives him the height to press his lips to Harry's. He can tell he's caught Harry by surprise by the slightest hesitation before Harry is kissing him back. He tastes like liquor and lime and Louis can't get enough. He runs his tongue over the seam of Harry's lips, just enough to tease and feel Harry so willingly part them for him, before he backs off. Turning his attention to the man across from them, Louis levels him with a stare.

"Oh, I'm sorry. I didn't see you there. Were you having a nice chat with my boyfriend?" Louis' voice drips with venom. 

The man blanches behind his fake tan, mumbles an apology at Louis and admits defeat, disappearing into the crowd. _That was too easy,_ Louis thinks. 

Turning his attention back to Harry, he's met with an expression of awe and lust. Harry's lips are still slightly parted from their too short kiss and Louis is tempted again, but doesn't press his luck. Instead, he slides his hand from the small of Harry's back to scratch slightly at his ribs through the sheer material.

"What were you saying about dancing like no one's watching?" he asks innocently before he grabs Harry's hand and drags him out onto the packed dance floor.

Louis dances in front of Harry, his back to Harry's front. He pushes his hips back into Harry in time to the music, relishing the feel of his arse pressed against Harry's crotch. Harry's hands are at his hips, fingertips pressing into the skin above the waist of his jeans. Louis hopes they leave bruises. 

Harry's breath is hot at his neck, sending shivers of pleasure over Louis' skin. "You called me your boyfriend." Harry says.

Louis smiles despite himself and swivels his hips. "So what if I did?" he responds coyly.

Harry spins him around and uses his hands on Louis' bum to pin him against him. "He wasn't flirting with me." 

Louis lifts an eyebrow. "Oh, really?"

"Yes, really. He was just saying how his daughter was a big fan. Posters all over her room. That kind of thing." Harry says, still grinding up against Louis to the beat of the music.

Louis holds himself back from rolling his eyes. "Posters he jerks off to when his daughter is at school, you mean?" he says.

"Louis!" Harry shouts, scandalised, but his smile is easy. 

Louis grins, all teeth and crinkled eyes. "You are, you know." he says.

Harry looks at him, brow furrowed in confusion.

"You're my boyfriend. I'm sorry it took me this long to figure it out." Louis says. It should be scary, laying it out there in no uncertain terms, but Louis has never felt safer bracketed in Harry's arms.

Harry leans down into him, pressing his face into the crook of Louis' neck. Louis feels Harry's mouth tug into a smile. "You're an idiot, Lou. But you're _my_ idiot." he says against Louis' neck.

Louis barks a laugh at that because it's ridiculous and he's never been happier. 

They dance for minutes or hours, Louis loses track of time while in Harry's arms. It really does feel like they're alone despite the mass of bodies surrounding them. When he looks at Harry, the rest of the world just melts away till its only the two of them left.

The club's lights spin around them in beams of pink, purple, and blue. Harry's lit like a rainbow and Louis thinks it's the most beautiful thing he's ever laid eyes on. His hair is curling wildly in the humid air and his cheeks are lightly flushed. He smiles at Louis, unabashed and fond. Louis is reminded of the picture on Harry's nightstand. He thinks of the Harry in the picture, cheeks pink and smile innocent, unaware of the future laid out ahead of them. Harry's smile is decidedly less innocent now, but it's still the same boy in front of Louis.

It hits Louis like a ton of bricks, bubbling up inside of him like a volcano about to erupt. He's always known. Hell, he's known since the very beginning. 

"I love you." Louis says.

Harry shakes his head, gestures to his ear. "What?" he shouts over the music.

Of _bloody_ course, Louis thinks. He slides his hands up to the sides of Harry's neck, fingers tangling in the ends of his curls. He locks his eyes with Harry's and says it again, louder and unmistakable.

"I love you, Harry. I'm absolutely mad for you." he says. If Harry wasn't there anchoring him to his body, Louis' sure he would've floated away by now with all this honesty making him feel light as a feather.

Harry smiles and it lights up his whole face. "The feeling is mutual, Lou, but you know that already."

Louis wraps his arms around Harry's neck and pulls him into a crushing hug. They're not dancing anymore, just swaying really, clinging to one another. Burying his face into Harry's neck, Louis presses his lips against the tender skin below Harry's ear.

"Let's go home." Harry begs.

Louis sighs, his relief is palpable. "Fuck yes." he says.

*

The door to the car closes, they're barely out of the parking lot and Harry is on him. Literally on him, slinging a leg over to straddle Louis' lap. Louis lets out a small squeak of shock at the other man's weight suddenly on him, but his hands instinctively latch onto Harry's hips.

"Harry," Louis breathes. His mind protests for a split second, everything from seatbelts to worrying about the driver noticing, but it all goes out the window when Harry's fingers fist in the hair at the back of his neck. Harry wrenches Louis' head back so the line of his throat is long and exposed, Louis' lips fall open with a shuddered gasp. Harry looks feral and hungry and Louis is fucking _hard_ for him and they haven't even kissed yet.

Harry ghosts his lips along the column of Louis' neck. "Lou, I just... I need..." His teeth connect with Louis' earlobe and his words are forgotten. Louis understands though, he can't seem to string together any coherent thoughts either, just feeling. Need. Touch. Want. Love. Forever. Louis knows this is all he'll ever want, they can discuss logistics later, but right now he just needs more of Harry.

Reading his mind, Harry closes the space between them and presses his mouth to Louis' parted lips. Licking into his mouth, Harry swallows Louis' groan when he simultaneously grinds his hips down against Louis' lap. Louis bucks up against him, fingers gripping hard into the thin material covering Harry's hips. Their lips meet in a heated frenzy, no finesse, but Louis can't get enough.

Harry rolls his hips in a maddening rhythm against him. His tongue is velvet heat in Louis' mouth and it is too much and not enough all at once. Louis sucks Harry's bottom lip into his mouth and bites down, relishing in the little noise that comes from the back of Harry's throat. He moves his mouth to Harry's neck, licking and biting at whatever skin he can get at. His shirt, loose from not having done up all the buttons, is hanging off one of his shoulders. Louis mouths at the skin there, tasting every bit of exposed flesh he can reach. Harry's hips stutter when Louis wraps his lips around one of his nipples, teeth grazing his sensitive flesh.

" _Louis,_ " Harry keens, the sound goes straight to Louis' dick.

"You're so gorgeous, Hazza. So beautiful when you're like this. Love you so much." Louis mumbles, chasing Harry's lips for another open mouthed kiss.

Harry makes a little purr of pleasure against his mouth and slips a hand between them, palming Louis through his jeans.

"Fuck." Louis hisses at the contact.

Harry drags his lower lip through his teeth and nods. "Please, Lou...want you to fuck me. It's been too long."

And damn, if it isn't the hottest thing he's ever heard come out of Harry's mouth. He wants nothing more than for Harry to ride his cock right here in the back of this town car, but despite Harry's pleas, Louis still has a small bit of his common sense and decency intact.

"We're almost home, babe." he says, lips pressed against one of the swallows tattooed below Harry's collarbone. "Can't wait to get you naked. 'm gonna make you scream my name."

 

Louis makes good on his promise. He has them both naked before they even make it to the bedroom, leaving a trail of clothes behind them as they climb the stairs. It's a miracle they don't trip and break their necks for all the care they take in making their way up to the room. When they make it to the bed, Harry pulls him down on top of him, gripping at Louis' arse. There's nothing between them now, just skin and heat. 

They kiss languidly for a time, before Louis breaks the kiss to reach over Harry towards the nightstand. His eyes fall on the picture frame, heart in his throat for a moment. His love for the man beneath him is immense, shakes him to his core. He has to steady himself with a hand on the bed, a deep inhale. Then, he slips his hand inside the drawer and pulls out a small bottle of lube and a condom.

He shifts himself between Harry's legs, taking in the sight before him. "So beautiful, my Hazza." he says, can't help himself from speaking the truth. They're beyond that now. Harry's cock is straining up against his stomach, precome already dripping from the head. Louis uses his thumb to drag the moisture down the underside of him, before wrapping his hand around Harry's cock. Harry's eyes flutter shut at his touch. Louis strokes him just enough to work him up before he lets go, moving to slick up his fingers with the lube.

Harry's eyes open again. He sees Louis and takes the hint, spreading his legs open just a bit wider. Louis circles a finger around Harry's hole, eyes flicking up to Harry's. Harry's pupils are blown, he already looks completely wrecked, but he nods desperately. Louis sinks a finger inside of Harry, just past the first knuckle. Fuck he's tight, tighter than Louis remembers, but Harry keeps nodding his head. Louis pushes in deeper, moving slowly.

"More, Lou, please." Harry begs.

Louis works him open with a second finger, fucking him with a steady rhythm and it's not long before Harry is panting beneath him. His chest is flushed and glistens with a light sheen of sweat. Louis crooks his fingers inside of Harry and knows he's found his prostate when Harry bucks up off the bed with a strangled moan of pleasure. Louis moves his fingers in and out, making sure to hit the spot every time.

"Lou... I want... I need you inside me. _Please_." Harry says, gasping for air.

Louis' cock is achingly hard and he thinks he could come untouched just from how devastating Harry looks spread out just for him. But that would be a waste. Instead, he removes his fingers and reaches for the condom. 

Harry beats him to it. "Let me." Harry says, sitting up a little. He tears open the wrapper with his teeth, and rolls the condom down over Louis' dick. Louis lets out a little groan at the touch. Harry slicks him up with lube, stroking him slowly from base to tip.

"Ok, ok. Enough." Louis says impatiently, a little laugh huffing out of his mouth.

Harry smiles at him, dimples popping, and he wraps his legs around Louis' waist. Louis positions himself at Harry's entrance, but stops short, a thought suddenly hitting him. He asks before he can stop himself.

"Have you? With anyone... since..." He can't even bring himself to say the words.

Harry just shakes his head, eyes softening as he looks up at Louis. Into his bloody soul. "There's never been anyone else. You know that." Harry says.

"Fuck, Harry." Louis says, guilt washing over him. He breaks Harry's stare, turning his head away. 

Harry grabs his face with his hands and drags his gaze back. "No. I didn't mean it like that, Lou. It doesn't matter, ok?" He strokes a hand over Louis' cheek and it breaks him. Louis' eyes slip closed as he presses his face into Harry's touch. "None of it matters. What matters is now. Here." Harry lifts his head to press a soft kiss to Louis' lips. "What matters is you, here with me." He's pulling Louis closer, closer.

Louis pushes in, sinking into Harry with a soft cry. "I love you." he says, because it's the truth and he wants Harry to hear it. Wants Harry to know how much his forgiveness means to him. He's the anchor that keeps him from drifting, his port in the storm. 

Louis buries his face into the crook of Harry's neck when he bottoms out, momentarily overcome by all of it. Harry's hand comes up to cradle the back of his neck. "I've got you." Harry says into his ear.

"Don't let go." Louis whispers, before starting to move in shallow thrusts. What he means to say is _don't let_ me _go_ , but Harry is so tight and hot beneath him that he's losing his words.

"Never, Lou, never." Harry breathes, arms and legs holding on tight.

Louis gets a rhythm going and soon Harry is lifting his hips off the bed to meet his thrusts. Words turn to moans of pleasure and everything else fades away. Harry slips a hand between them to wrap around his own cock. Louis bats Harry's hand away, wrapping his own fingers around the man's cock.

"Yes," Harry says, scratching his nails down Louis' back, "I'm close."

Louis can feel his own orgasm building at the base of his spine. "Me, too. Come for me, Haz." he says, stroking him in time to his thrusts, hips moving erratically. It only take a few more strokes before Harry cries out and comes against his own belly.

"I love you, Louis, love you so much. So much." Harry babbles. 

It's all Louis needs to hear before his orgasm hits him like an earthquake, shaking him from head to toe. He comes with Harry's name on his lips, and sees stars on the back of his eyelids when he squeezes his eyes shut against the force of his orgasm. Harry's there, limbs wrapped around him, holding him close and rocking him through it. "'m yours." Louis says, when he's caught his breath. "Love you."

Harry presses his lips all over his face, raining kisses over his eyelashes, his cheeks, his jaw. "Always, Lou. Always."

Louis moves, pulls out of Harry and instantly misses the feeling of being inside him. He ties off the condom and half-heartedly tosses it towards the bin. He hopes he makes it, but doesn't care enough to make sure. He doesn't care if they're sweaty and disgusting and covered in Harry's come. He doesn't want to give this up. Ever. Instead, he curls up against Harry's side and presses in as close as he can. Harry wraps his arms around him, legs entwined.

They fall asleep like that, a mess of tangled limbs, unsure of where one body begins and the other one ends. Harry's heartbeat against Louis' ear a compass guiding him home.

*

Louis wakes bathed in sweat. It's hot, terribly so, with the morning sun beating in from the balcony and Harry pressed up against his front. He blinks his eyes open sleepily and grins, remembering the night before. He leans into Harry, pressing a kiss to the sleeping boy's shoulder before climbing out of the bed. Naked, he pads into the bathroom and quietly slides the door closed so not to wake Harry.

He makes quick work of the shower, taking his toothbrush in with him, spitting toothpaste down the drain. He scrubs his body clean while he looks out the glass at the horizon. There's not a cloud in the sky, another beautiful summer day in California. The thing is, he's spent so long feeling bitter and alone. The whole world seeming to conspire against him, weighing him down with worry and uncertainty. But looking out at the sun reflecting off the waves, Louis feels none of it any longer. He feels peace.

He closes his eyes only long enough to rinse the shampoo out of his hair and when he opens them again, he counts a flock of pelicans that fly right past his eye level. He smiles to himself and shuts off the water.

 

Toweling off, he throws on a pair of shorts and a t-shirt of Harry's. It's slightly too big for him, but that only makes him love it more. It smells faintly of Harry and Louis takes comfort in it. He leaves Harry sleeping and makes his way downstairs, picking up their discarded clothes from last night as he goes. He considers making breakfast for them, but decides against it, putting on a kettle for tea instead. 

He cracks open the sliding glass door to let in the sound of the waves outside. As he waits for the water to boil, he leans against the counter and chews on a hangnail. His fingers itch for something and it's then that he realizes he hasn't reached for his cell phone the entire time he's been there. He huffs out a laugh. "Magic fucking beach." he says to himself.

Walking over to the other end of the kitchen island, he slides open the last drawer to find his phone and forgotten pack of cigarettes among other bits and bobs. He pulls out his phone and a charger and plugs it in to an outlet.

He makes his tea and brings the cup over to where his phone is charging. He swipes at the screen and cringes when he sees the amount of missed calls and texts. The first handful are from Niall. Louis blows on his tea to cool it as he reads through Niall's texts.

_Why aren't u answering your texts, mate?_

_It's been 2 days wtf._

_Ur either dead or with harry.._

_(i hope ur with harry) txt me when you get this, dickhead._

_Harry called. I guess this means ur alive. Next time u drop off the face of the earth, maybe let me know first? JESUS. *kissy face emoji*_

Louis grins and shoots off a quick reply: _Alright, Nialler._ He throws in a sunglasses smiley for good measure.

He ignores all the texts that are work related. He's on bloody break, damn it, he can deal with them later. They've waited this long, surely they can wait for him to get back. He sees a voicemail from his mum and hits play, pressing the phone to his ear. He hears her voice and his breath catches in his throat. It's instantaneous how much he misses her, how good it is to hear her voice even if it is just a recording.

_"Hi Lou Bear, it's your mum. I know you have some time off and I hope you're getting the rest you deserve. I'm just worried about you, my love. I know how you get, wanting to take it all on by yourself... but sometimes it's ok to lean on others for support. I'm here for you... the boys are there for you, too. Harry called me to tell me he's got you and not to worry. That boy cares so much for you, baby... but I'm sure you know that. Anyway, I just want you to know how proud I am of you. I love you so much. No matter what. Ring me when you get a chance, love."_

Louis sighs, heart light with affection. He's about to call her back when his phone starts buzzing in his hand. It's a facetime request from Liam. 

"Christ." he curses under his breath, flicking his fringe out of his face before connecting the call.

He's greeted instantly by Liam and Zayn, both smiling like lovesick idiots. "Oh, look what the cat dragged in, Liam! Hi, Louis!" Zayn crows with a little wave. Liam's eyes are crinkled in a smile, much happier than the last time Louis laid eyes on him.

Louis can't help but smile back sheepishly. "Hey, hey." he says.

"What's up, Tommo? I was starting to think maybe I was a bit too harsh on you. Especially when you didn't return my calls. I was worried about you, but you look good. Like you've gotten some sun. " Liam says. He's got his face pressed up against Zayn's cheek to fit in the view of the phone.

Zayn scrunches up his nose, turning his head to whisper something into Liam's ear. Louis watches as Liam's eyes widen.

"It's rude to tell secrets when I'm right here, Malik. Didn't your mum teach you manners?" Louis says, sipping at his tea.

Zayn turns his attention back, eyes glittering with mirth. "Leave my mum out of this, you twat. I told Liam that you look proper _fucked_."

Louis bites down on his lips to hide his grin. Was it that obvious? Was he blushing? Louis knows he's completely gone for Harry, but he prides himself on his ability to mask his feelings from others. Turns out he can't hide it from his best friends. Not in the slightest. He turns his attention away from his phone, craning his neck to look towards the stairs. He hopes his speakerphone isn't loud enough to wake Harry.

"Is that?" Liam says.

"Yes, it is, Liam." Zayn says.

Louis looks back at the phone to see Zayn's shit eating grin. "What are you two on about?" he asks.

"You've got a giant hickey on your neck." Liam says. He tries to hide his smile but fails miserably.

"And by the looks of it... it's a fresh one." Zayn cackles.

Louis rubs at his throat self consciously, but by the same turn he loves that Harry's left marks of possession on him. It makes him feel so ridiculously happy, it's no wonder Liam and Zayn can see it. "Fuck off, the both of you." he manages, without any malice.

"So, how's your loverboy then?" Liam asks softly. The careful tone of his voice carries through the phone and straight into Louis' heart. He feels guilt for the drama he put them all through, but he knows how far he's come. It's nothing that can't be mended.

"He's great, yeah." Louis says. He doesn't bother to hide the fondness that creeps in. "Harry's great. We both are, actually."

"I told you!" Zayn says to Liam, and then to Louis, "Good on you, mate. 's about time." Louis watches Zayn smack a kiss on Liam's cheek.

"Oy! I had to be sure." Liam protests, but turns his face just enough for Zayn to kiss the corner of his lips.

Louis is used to their nauseating public displays of affection and usually he's the first to call them out on it. But this time, Louis gets it. He's happy that they're so crazy for each other that they can't even facetime someone without being all over one another. It's kind of adorable if he's being quite honest.

Liam's eyes meet Louis' through the phone screen. "That's so good to hear, Louis. I mean it." he says.

Louis just nods with a small smile. "I miss you guys." he says.

" _Aww_ , I love you, too, Lou." Zayn says, leaning his head against Liam's shoulder. Louis lets out a little laugh as Zayn's finger blots out the screen for a second.

"Are you trying to pet me?" he asks.

"It'll have to do until I can hug you in person." Zayn says, his bottom lip extended in an exaggerated pout.

"I hope you know you've found true love with a complete idiot, Liam." Louis says, eyes crinkling in a smile.

Zayn scoffs as Liam lets out a laugh. "Oh, trust me, I know. Listen, we've got to run. Got a few things that need settling. I'll be on a flight back to LA tonight. I'll see you and Harry late tomorrow, yeah?" Liam says, switching back into business mode with ease.

Tomorrow. It hits Louis quickly. Tomorrow they'd be leaving the beach. Their haven. "Yeah, sounds good. Take care of yourself, Zayn. When are you coming out?" 

"Probably Christmas time. Wish it was sooner, though." Zayn says with a shrug. 

Liam and Zayn end the call shortly after, but not before Zayn makes a fool of himself by kissing the phone screen repeatedly sending Harry love via Louis. Louis finds himself still smiling long after his phone screen has gone black and his tea gone cold.

*

Louis sits on the sand later that day and watches the waves as they break. The water laps just out of reach of his toes, but the tide is coming in slowly, threatening to take over his dry spot of beach. Like these days of solace and restoration, all things must come to an end, Louis thinks. Just like how he'll have to get up from the sand, still warm from the heat of the day, to go inside for the evening. He'll have to leave all this behind, trade it in for stadiums packed with screaming fans. For now.

He watches the sun dip into the clouds, the sky lit in pink and orange. He wants to freeze time in this moment, wants to capture this feeling just the way it is and hold onto it. He knows he'll be okay, he really does, but it still doesn't change the fact that he's afraid of the future. Scared of what's to come and how life will change. To want to cling to this past couple of weeks of freedom is reasonable, but it doesn't change the fact that it is coming to an end.

"There you are." Harry's voice startles him out of his thoughts. He hadn't even heard him approach. Harry drops to the sand next to him, presses up against Louis.

It's amazing, Louis thinks, how comforting Harry's presence is. 

"Was wondering where you'd gone off to." Harry says, pressing his chin into Louis' shoulder, grounding him.

"'m watching the sun set. It's going to be a good one." Louis says, sneaking a glance at Harry.

Harry only has eyes for Louis, though. "Lovely Lou." he murmurs.

Louis leans in and brushes his nose against Harry's affectionately. He turns his attention back to the sunset. "I wish we could stay." Louis says, tangling his fingers with Harry's.

"I know. Me, too." Harry says, burrowing into Louis' body.

Louis doesn't say anything, just content to be in this moment with Harry. With the man he loves. He thinks back to only moments earlier and changes his mind. This is where he wants to freeze time. Here with Harry in his arms watching the California sunset with the Pacific ocean tickling his toes. It'd be enough.

"It'll be alright, love. We'll come back." Harry says, pressing his lips to Louis' temple. 

Louis allows himself a small sigh, turning to face Harry. "Promise?" 

Harry smiles, already closing what little space is left between them. He whispers his answer into Louis' parted lips. "I promise." he says, and kisses him.

*

That night, their last night at the house, they make love again. Harry takes his time with Louis. Much like he does with everything else, his attention undivided and his touch both deliberate and unhurried. He studies Louis' body. Fingers, lips and tongue mapping every bit of his skin. It's akin to worship, Louis thinks, half gone already with Harry's lips around the head of his cock and his fingers working him open in rhythm with his mouth. He feels unworthy of it, but squanders the thought quickly when he sees the look of unabashed want written all over Harry's face. It's luck. It's fate. It's serendipity. Whatever it's called, Louis knows he's blessed that Harry picked him. And now that he'd been given the chance, he wasn't going to screw it up again.

Harry fucks him slowly, his thrusts devastating. He never breaks eye contact with Louis, pulls wrecked gasps from him every time his cock hits Louis in just the right place. It's completely overwhelming, Harry invading and taking over all his senses. There are tears streaming out of Louis' eyes when he comes, sobbing Harry's name against the force of his orgasm. 

Harry comes close after, kissing the tears from Louis' eyes. He pants hot puffs of air against Louis' neck. "I love you. I love you. I love you." he chants.

Louis echoes it back to him, a prayer answered. _I love you. I love you. I love you._

*

The drive back to Los Angeles flies by so quickly, almost mocking Louis in his desire to slow things down. To keep Harry to himself for just a bit longer. Unfortunately, the outside world hadn't received the memo, blessing them with hardly any traffic.

He's got his phone hooked up to Harry's stereo so he can pick songs at random. He uses one hand to scroll through his music, the other rests on the center console, fingers tangled with Harry's. They'd been that way since they headed north on PCH. They don't speak, but the silence is decidedly unlike how it had been on the trip down to the beach house. Louis remembers how horrible it was, the silence a heavy weight between them carrying all their misgivings and unspoken hurt. He never wants to feel like that again.

But it's different now. The silence is comfortable and easy. They don't need words to express how far they've come. The press of Harry's fingers in his says it all. He lifts their hands, pressing a kiss against Louis' hand. Louis knows that Harry will be there, by his side, for all of it. With that reassuring thought, Louis realizes that he's okay with being scared of the future, with the not knowing. That's half of the adventure anyway, he thinks.

_"And California never felt like home to me until I had you on the open road."_

*

_Epilogue_

 

Louis stares at the picture on his phone screen not quite believing what he's seeing. Of course, he knows it's real, it's not the first one he's seen after all. But it is still remarkable in the sense that it knocks him off his feet. His bum hits the couch and he studies his phone, unblinking. With his thumb and forefinger he zooms in on the image and there it is. Clear as day, the outlined shape of life in fuzzy black and white.

"Hello, there." Louis breathes, thankful that no one is around to catch him talking to a picture of a sonogram. To a picture of a child. His child.

"Are you talking to yourself, love?"

 _Spoke to soon_ , Louis thinks upon hearing Harry's voice, low and sweet. He looks up to see Harry, leaning against the doorframe. He's a vision in black, all long legs in impossibly tight jeans and a t-shirt with the sleeves rolled up to expose his biceps still tan from their time away. Louis flicks his gaze back to Harry's face where he waits with a smile, dimples deep enough to get lost in. 

He's so ridiculously in love with this man that he can't stop from smiling back at him. Harry is the first thing on his mind when he wakes and the last thing he thinks of before he drifts off to sleep every night. It's become quite an insatiable sickness as of late. The simple fact that Harry feels exactly the same way about him is just the icing on the cake. The best part about being Harry's boyfriend is that he can tell him anything. Louis is done with holding things back, keeping emotions and worries locked away where they can smother him. With Harry, there's balance and care. There's no judgment, only love and understanding.

Louis holds out his phone. "It's a girl, Haz. A baby girl." 

Harry's eyes widen in recognition and his smile gets even bigger. He closes the space between them in three easy steps, sinking down onto the couch. He moves in close, leg pressed up against Louis from hip to foot, and rests a hand on Louis' where he holds his phone. Just the simple touch sends warmth down Louis' arm and into his chest.

Harry stares at the sonogram for a few more seconds before turning to look Louis in the eyes. "A girl, Lou. That's _brilliant_." he says.

This could be so weird and terribly awkward, beginning a committed relationship with someone and having a child born of one night's misstep with another, but it's not. Because it's Harry. It works. Despite it all, Louis wouldn't have it any other way. 

The way Harry's smiling at him makes him think that Harry probably feels the same. There's nothing to say really, so Louis just lets out a little laugh that's half relief and half genuine happiness. He tucks his head into the crook of Harry's neck, relishing in the instantaneous way that Harry wraps his arms around him. 

"Love you." he murmurs into Harry's neck. He presses his lips against Harry's throat because he can and because he can't help himself when Harry's so close.

Harry hums in pleasure, squeezing Louis just a bit tighter. "We're on in five." 

"That's not nearly enough time to get you off." Louis groans, sinking his teeth into the tender flesh of Harry's neck. He hears Harry's sharp intake of breath, feels the pads of Harry's fingers dig into sides. He smiles and runs his tongue over the place where he bit him, loving the way Harry's already shivering. He lifts his head to see Harry's eyes already half-lidded and hazy with lust. "Or is it?" he asks.

"What kind of boy do you take me for?" Harry asks coyly, but he's not exactly pulling out of Louis' grip.

Louis laughs, sliding his hand up Harry's thigh. "I know exactly the kind of boy you are." he says. He covers Harry's mouth with his own, tongue slipping past his parted lips. There's no time for sweetness, so Louis makes it filthy, tongue dragging against Harry's. 

"Liam will have our heads if we're late onstage again." Harry pants against Louis' mouth when they break their kiss. 

Heedless of the warning, Louis already has his hand on Harry, pressing his palm against the crotch of his jeans. "What have I told you about mentioning Liam during foreplay?" Louis scoffs, but doesn't stop his ministrations. He pops open the button of Harry's jeans and looks at him with a raised eyebrow.

Harry delays for only a moment before he nods his head, dragging his kiss swollen bottom lip through his teeth. "Four minutes, Lou." he says breathlessly.

Louis looks at him, an expression of mock determination on his face. "I've always loved a challenge, Harold."

Harry grins at him, blotting out everything else. It's only Harry. Always Harry. Louis feels his fingers tickling at the nape of his neck. "What did I ever do to deserve this? To deserve you?" Harry asks.

Louis shrugs a shoulder and takes Harry's cock in his hand. "Just lucky, I guess." he says. 

Louis knows it most certainly is the other way around.

**Author's Note:**

> title taken from Butch Walker's "Don't Move"  
> Louis sings lyrics from the same song  
> Harry reads from Pablo Neruda's _The Captain's Verses_ , poem titled "September 8th"  
> On the way back, they're listening to Halsey's "Drive"
> 
> If you enjoyed this, please consider leaving comments or kudos. I'm so thirsty for love! 
> 
> Tumblr post is [here](http://choface.tumblr.com/post/131761554564/i-can-move-you-like-an-earthquake-by-whensheflies). Come say hi on [Tumblr](http://choface.tumblr.com/)! I love new friends. xx


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